


The Question of the Intern

by Rochelle_Templer



Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mild references to violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 16:48:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11513436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rochelle_Templer/pseuds/Rochelle_Templer
Summary: Early on in their relationship, Daisy discovers a secret Sweets has been hiding....





	The Question of the Intern

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a present from a prompt contest. The person who won wanted me to write a one-shot about the first time Daisy saw the scars on Sweets' back.

The light from the rising sun had started to filter into the curtains, creating a soft glow in the bedroom of Doctor Lance Sweets. On the bed were two figures, who were fast asleep. One of them, Daisy Wick, began to stir.

Daisy rolled over onto her side and yawned as she opened her eyes. She then grinned when she remembered where she was.

Yesterday she had spent the night with Sweets at his apartment. The two of them had started the evening with Chinese take-out and movie rentals, but it quickly went from the front room to the bedroom, where they ended up spending most of the night. And which was where she found herself now.

Normally, Daisy would leave late at night so that she could go to work the next day or get back to her dissertation in the morning. But she had gotten the day off this time and decided last night to take a break from her graduate work today.

_‘It will still be there later…and it will be no less brilliant and worthy of Doctor Brennan’s notice if I wait a day to work on it,’_ she mused.

She smiled again when she thought about how tired Sweets had been from work last night. Although not too tired for…other activities. Afterwards though, he had fallen into a deep sleep and hadn’t even noticed that she had stayed all night. She turned to her side so that she faced Sweets. So she could watch him sleep.

‘ _He’s even cuter and more innocent while he sleeps,’_ she marveled. _‘Is there anything about him that’s not cute? He’s so perfect._ ’ Then Daisy frowned for a moment.

_‘Wait…maybe he’s too perfect…maybe he’s hiding something…but what could it be? I mean he’s so adorable, how could he be hiding something?’_

Sweets suddenly moaned and turned over in his sleep so that his back was facing her. In the process of doing so, the sheet that was covering him slid down to his waist, exposing his shoulders.

When Daisy saw what was there, she had to put a hand over her mouth to prevent her from gasping too loudly.

Carved into Sweets’ shoulder blades were scars. Not light, little scars that you could get in the normal misadventures of life. These were deep, angry scars that spoke of some sort of extreme trauma.

Daisy reached out and stopped just short of touching them. She tilted her head and found herself staring at them with a more clinical eye.

_‘Those marks…it almost looks like…a whip?’_

Daisy gulped. She had shifted gears in her mind that way to try to quell the horror she felt while looking at those scars. It helped. A little.

Just then Sweets began to stir and he opened his eyes.

“Baby?” she said.

* * *

 

Sweets slowly opened his eyes and blinked at the sunlight coming into his room. He was gradually regaining his senses when he heard a voice from the bed beside him.

“Baby?”

He jumped when he realized that he was not alone in the bed. He turned over to see Daisy lying beside him. He yanked up the sheet to his neck to cover himself.

“It’s all right baby, it’s just me?” she said softly.

“What...What are you doing here?” he stammered. Daisy began to grin again.

“Don’t you remember, sleepyhead? I got today off, so I spent the night,” she said. “You sure didn’t seem to mind last night.” She started to move closer to him, but he pulled back and wrapped the sheet even tighter against his body.

_‘I can’t let her see…not like Laurel did that day.’_

Sweets began to panic; Laurel had been his first true love of his life. He had met her in graduate school, and things seemed to go beautifully until one morning when she saw his scars for the first time. She left him the next day.

Now, he was afraid that history would repeat itself.

“Hey Daisy, why don’t you get up and get dressed first and then I can join you for some more of those movies,” he said, trying desperately to sound casual. But to his dismay he watched her face fall and her eyes dim.

“What’s wrong?” Sweets asked her, secretly dreading the answer.

“Lance, baby…I saw your back…and what was there,” she said somberly. Sweets sank into the bed and swallowed hard while growing visibly paler.

_‘She saw them…it’s too soon…I’ve only been going out with her for a month…’_

Sweets thought back to when April had seen them for the first time. She had been shocked and repulsed, and she refused to touch him there without his shirt on. But she didn’t walk out on him the way Laurel did. However, they had been going out for about four months by that point; enough time for the relationship to jell and become more secure.

This was not the case with Daisy. Although Sweets’ feelings for her were already stronger than what they were for April and perhaps even Laurel, he was still learning to understand their relationship and Daisy herself.

She reached over to run her fingers through his wavy hair.

“Why didn’t you tell me the truth?” she said, looking like she was about to cry. Confused, Sweets sat up, still being careful to cover himself with the blanket.

“What do you mean the truth?” he asked, becoming defensive. “I never lied about…about that. I just didn’t want to mention it is all.” Daisy’s eyes became even shinier.

“You always told me that the couple who adopted you were such wonderful people,” she said. “How could they be if they did that to you?”

Sweets’ jaw hung open for a second in disbelief to what she was implying. That was swiftly replaced with instinctive anger.

“My Mom and Dad did not do that to me,” he said his tone harsh. “They loved me, and they never hurt me. Not once.” Daisy flinched at Sweets’ expression.

“Then who…” Suddenly her eyes grew wide and she clasped both hands over her mouth.

“Oh…it was your biological parents…wasn’t it?” she said through her fingers. Sweets hung his head.

“I…I don’t want to talk about it,” he mumbled as he pulled the sheets around him even tighter.

“But baby…” Sweets lifted his head, but he still wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“No!” he insisted. “Just drop it.”

He laid back down and turned on his side so that he wouldn’t be facing her. He tried to burrow under the sheets and closed his eyes as he felt them water up.

_‘It’s just like Laurel all over again….’_

Sweets squeezed his eyes, trying to stop his tears. The day Laurel left him, all he could think about was how his biological father had guaranteed that he could never have the sort of happiness that he had tried to have with her. He had been marked, branded, as a damaged person, and no woman wanted to deal with that. No woman that mattered.

He was startled when he felt Daisy’s hands reach over and stroke his hair and cheek. They were so soft and warm. He didn’t want to, but he couldn’t stop himself from leaning into her touch.

“Baby, it’s all right,” she murmured, her lips brushing his ear. He then felt a slight chill as she began pulling the sheet down toward his waist.

“No,” he said weakly, barely putting up any resistance. The truth was a large part of him didn’t want to stop her. He longed to be close to her, to have that kind of intimate contact with someone he loved. Then to his amazement, he felt her run her hands along his back, caressing him. She didn’t hesitate or flinch when her fingers brushed along his scars.

He rolled onto his back to look at her and could see the love in her eyes, tempered with sorrow. But it was the things that weren’t there that surprised him.

There was no pity, no disgust, and no regret.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “You know me…always saying things and asking questions that make people uncomfortable. If you don’t want to tell me right now, that’s fine. Sorry I pried.” Sweets instantly felt guilty about snapping at her.

“No, it wasn’t your fault,” he said. “I just…It’s hard for me to talk about it is all. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” Daisy curled up closer beside him and propped herself up with her elbow, resting her head on her hand.

“I just get worried that people will treat me differently, you know,” Sweets continued. “If they see them.” Daisy nodded.

“I get that,” she said. “After all, I know that I see you differently now.”

Sweets felt his heart drop at those words; this was exactly what he wanted to avoid.

“Daisy, I…” She put a finger to his lips, stopping him, a grin on her face again.

“I mean here I was all worried that maybe you were a little too perfect and that maybe this wasn’t the real you,” she said, her voice surprisingly bubbly. “But now I see that you’re just as real as me. You know what it’s like to be hurt….Well it wasn’t like that for me…I mean…” A look of fear crossed her features.

“Sorry, I said something wrong again, didn’t I?” Sweets couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s fine. I understand what you were saying,” he said. That made her grin again and she leaned down to give him a hard but passionate kiss. After finally coming up for air, she resumed her position on her side.

“Anyway, it’s like you’re so brave, you know…the way you still want to help everyone the way you do, even with all that on your back,” she continued to chatter. Sweets stared at her while she talked.

_‘How does she always manage to just keep on talking after doing things like that?’_ he marveled.

“You’re like those knights from the legends,” she smiled at him. “They would go out and fight the evil and darkness, but then they would come back and be all chivalrous and write poems to the women that they loved. Then they would go out and do it all over again, no matter how hard it was.” Daisy reached over with her other hand and stroked Sweets’ shoulder.

“These are just your battle scars, Lance,” she said. “From a battle that you won…Maybe I should call you Sir Lance from now on.” Suddenly her eyes got big again.

“No…Lancelot…even better,” she almost squealed. “He was my favorite in the King Arthur stories.” She leaned back with a faraway look in her eyes.

“Yeah…Lancelot…” Sweets raised an eyebrow at her.

“Lancelot?” he said. Her grin got even wider as she moved to rest on his chest.

“My brave Lancelot…I love you,” she said, kissing him again. Sweets was glad that she was doing that; he was pretty sure that he would have started crying if she wasn’t.

But the tears weren’t from sorrow for a change.

As he wrapped his arms around her, he felt peace, contentment. He also felt a tiny pang of guilt for not seeing that there was so much more to her than there ever was in April or Laurel.

Sweets pulled her even closer to him. Someday he would tell her. Maybe he would even tell her everything from that night. But for now, he was happy to just be with his princess.

Happy that he may have won the battle after all.

 


End file.
